


The Matter of Principle

by MimikoFlamemaker



Series: Of Monsters and Men [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-06 09:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16829833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker
Summary: A hunt for ekkima leads Geralt to meet an unlikely ally.Neve earns a living as a mercenary. She also deeply loathes the fact that she is a half-elf. It is one of those things though that can't be changed. So she deals with the consequences. And survives - by whatever means necessary.She does not expect however, that her carefully planned existence will fall into disarray when destiny will place a witcher on her path. And remind her about her own conscience.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Kwestia Przyzwoitości](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806994) by [MimikoFlamemaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker). 



**I**

For this time of the year, the day was turning out to be a stifling one. Last night a storm rolled over the area and the thick humidity still hung beneath the trees. Sunlight and heat filtering through the branches above were already difficult to tolerate, even if noon was still a good few hours away.

A narrow path winding through the trees was dotted with blinking pools, a reminder of the last night’s rain. A few horses walked slowly over it, splashing the muddy water. Birds screeched in the bushes, filling the air with pleasant noise.

The echoes brought a shimmer of talking from the distance, growing in strength with every passing minute.

The path ended with a clearing, decorated with the remains of a few buildings that not so long ago made a part of a lumber mill complex.

A group of peasants gathered in front of the one of the ruined houses. They were so absorbed with screaming over each other, that they did not notice a group of riders emerging form the forest. A little to the side a tall, young man with a face full of pustules was trying to handle a restless, bay mare. The animal snorted, striking the ground with its hooves, clearly unwilling to cooperate.

Before anyone even glanced in their direction the riders formed an orderly row at the edge of the forest. All of them wore dark leathers with chainmail beneath and carried weapons. It was not difficult to guess that they weren’t just some ordinary travelers. At the sign from a tall, lean man standing in the center of the row, two of them broke off from the group, circling the clearing. A huge, bald man with a tattooed temple kept to the edge of the woods, using his bare hands to get a crossbow he carried ready to shoot. A black-haired woman, sitting astride a dapple-gray mare was slowly approaching the youngster still fighting with a horse.

Silence settled over the clearing. The peasants formed an even tighter group and turned their attention to the newcomers. Though there were plenty of angry glares, no one had dared to speak.

Behind their backs, almost in the entrance to one of the huts, a huge hole opened into the ground, leading to the caves winding beneath this part of the forest.

‘His lordship, count Visse’ began the same tall man, ‘heard that the people of Bresnica village are not pleased with the help they had been given’ he pushed his steed a few steps towards the group. ‘And it seems that he was right when he sent us here to make sure there will be no trouble.’

‘That’s because we don’t need no lousy mutant here…’ muttered one of the peasants.

‘As far as we know, you do need one’ the mercenary replied. ‘The beast murdered fifteen good men when it first appeared and then a few others who were too curious for their own good…’

‘Please don’t be angry mister Posch’ Nadmir, the mayor of the Bresnica village moved to the front of the group, fiddling with the hat he just pulled off. ‘We have only wanted to check… The witcher went in last morning and still didn’t come out… So… We thought…’

‘And here is you first mistake, mister mayor’ the mercenary cut in. ‘You are not here to do that. And rightly so, seeing that thinking is clearly not your forte.’

The man looked to the side, nodding his head. The woman noticed the signal and pushed her horse another step forward, almost trampling the young man.

‘Step away from the horse, boy’ she demanded quietly, though her voice still carried over the clearing.

The youngster glared at her, still curling his hand over the reins.

‘The beast had surely strewn the mutant’s guts over its lair by now’ he declared. ‘He won’t be needing the horse anymore, but we could still find some use for it…’

The woman grimaced. Small, white teeth blinked from behind her curled upper lip. The dapple-gray mare took another step towards the boy.

‘Are you deaf or just dumb? I said leave the horse be.’

‘You are not going to tell me what I can and cannot do, elven slut!

There was a distinct groan of a pulled bowstring.

‘Say that again!’ a tall dark haired elf demanded, aiming at the lad. The youngster was opening his mouth to respond when the woman twisted in the saddle, kicking him in the face. He choked and tumbled to the ground. Blood was spilling from his mouth together with a couple of knocked out teeth. The bay mare nickered, but calmed as soon as the woman leaned over, patting her gently on the neck.

‘The count does not allow such treatment of the people he is hiring to help ensure the area safety’ the commander of the mercenaries said, his eyes never straying from the group of peasants. ‘The lad will learn now that there are bound to be consequences, when he tries to take anything without permission. Now take him, and leave.’

‘B-but why…?’

‘Because I said so Nadmir. Don’t pretend to be dumber than you actually are.’

‘B-but m-mister Posch… the witcher… the monster… We need to see if he killed it…’

‘Maybe he did’ the man’s lips pulled into a frown. ‘Or maybe he didn’t. And what then, mister mayor? Do you really want to be here when the beast will emerge from its lair?’

Nadmir paled visibly.

‘If it does come out’ the mercenary continued. ‘Then we will finish it off. And then we will ran the corpse through the village so that everyone, including your women and children could get an eyeful. Do you want us to drag your own corpse as well, mister mayor?’

The speed with which the other man shook his head, was begging to wonder, how it was still attached to his shoulders. The villagers grabbed the moaning youngster by the shoulders, lifted him up and quickly disappeared into the forest, giving the mercenaries a wide berth.

Their steps were still echoing between the trees, when a distinct sound of dragging came from the direction of the cave. The stones rattled as they rolled down the slope. The archer and the man with the crossbow turned in their saddles, aiming at the entrance, waiting.

First thing they saw was a piece of a curved back, covered in the thick, grey fur. The arbalist was ready to shoot, when the fur was grabbed by the hand, covered in a black, leather glove, heaving and throwing the limp corpse over the edge of the opening.

The monster was a bit similar to a wingless, overgrown bat. Its pointy teeth and long, curled claws were covered with a dried blood.

The witcher’s white hair were caked with a mixture of dirt and sweat. When he finally managed to pull himself out of the cave, they could all see how he was pressing his left arm against his side. The leather jacket he wore was torn on the shoulder and the bloodied rags binding the wound were clearly visible through the tears.

One of the horses snorted. The witcher’s attention snapped to them as if he only now realized that he was not alone. Yellow, catlike eyes ran over the riders. His right arm reached for the hilt of the sword poking from above his right shoulder.

‘Easy there, mister witcher’ said the commander, resting his arm on his own weapon. ‘Count Olbert Visse sends us. Mohar Posch and the company. Currently in service of his lordship.’

The witcher glared at them again, his eyes stopping briefly at the woman, still holding his horse by the reins.

‘I am pleased with the meeting’ the witcher’s tone was dry. ‘I have heard quite a lot…’

‘We have also heard the many tales about the famous Geralt of Rivia’ Posh interrupted him, nodding at the corpse at the witcher’s feet. ‘Care to tell us what tore the peasants to shreds?’

‘Ekkima. I had no idea that lord Visse cares so much about the wellbeing of the people he hires’ Greralt mocked.

‘His lordship’ the mercenary corrected. ‘Cares only about his business and its prosperity. And for that business to prosper, the peasants needed to return to work in peace as soon as possible. You were instrumental in ensuring that peace. So don’t act surprised that we were sent to find you when you failed to give any sign of life for a week’

‘You need time to properly truck and hunt for a monster’

‘We know that’ something that supposed to be a smile creeped onto Mohar’s face. ‘His lordship is, unfortunately, not versed in such matters. But it’s good that we’ve come. If it wasn’t for us you wouldn’t have not only your horse, but possibly the rest of your meager belongings as well. People you see, know plenty of surprising ways to show their gratitude.’

‘I am beyond grateful’ Geralt gave a stiff nod. ‘I assume that we will head to see the count now?’

‘You assume incorrectly. Now, we will go to the inn, for a dinner and a bit of a rest because we departed before the dawn. Neve will look over your shoulder…’

‘There is no need…’ the witcher glanced at the black-haired woman again.

‘Wrong again. You see, his lordship pays me to do his bidding. And per his last orders I was to finish the beast if it killed you or bring you to him alive. So it is in my business to make sure that you will not bleed out on the road, do you understand?’

Geralt did not respond.

‘Marvelous’ Mohar’s features pulled into an ugly smirk. ‘Alven, Borgh take the monster and drag it through the village. Make sure the villagers will remember it for a while. And you witcher, follow me.’ the mercenary gestured towards the forest, turning his steed back onto the path.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

The interior of the annex, that was repurposed to serve as a tiny bathhouse was even damper than the outside. Neve wrinkled her nose, resting a sizable, wooden chest against her hip. The air was sticky with a heavy humidity, making the stink of the sweaty clothes almost too difficult to bear.

The witcher had his back turned to her and was sitting on the low stool. Next to him stood a still steaming bucked with a bloodied rag thrown over the edge. She could clearly see the long, ragged tears, curling around his arm and shoulder.

Judging by the scars, covering almost every inch of the visible skin, it was nothing new to him.

‘How much longer do you plan on standing there, ogling?’ he asked without turning to look at her.

‘I’ve never seen a half-naked witcher before’ she replied as she approached, placing the chest onto the floor. ‘Do you have anything clean to wear? If I am to tend to that, I wouldn’t want you to put this dirty rags back on.’

‘In the saddle bags. I didn’t think I will ever meet a mercenary healer…’

‘A warrior’ the woman corrected. ‘I earn a living with a sword, though I admit that the ability of putting people back together also tends to be a useful one – she crouched next to the chest, shifting through its contents.

‘And you learned that in the commando or later?’ he spared her a glance over his shoulder.

The woman shrugged.

‘In the commando at first. Then I learned whenever I could, for a year even here in Ellander, at the temple of Melitele. It is that easy to guess where I came from?’

‘You are walking like someone well used to sneaking around. And unlike your brethren raised in the cities, you do not use any perfume.’

‘Impressive’ she pursed her lips and stood up. ‘I’m curious now, how did you manage to fail to notice that ekkima, before it shredded your shoulder.’

Neve stood behind the witcher and bent down to assess the injury. He flinched when she touched his shoulder. The cuts were long and deep, running across his shoulder-blade. He was lucky that he had managed to pull himself free. If ekkima’s claws were a little more curved, it would be his body that they would be dragging from the cave.

‘I’ll clean the cuts and stitch them up’ she explained. ‘Otherwise the scars can impair the mobility of the arm, which in your case will likely be a death sentence.’

Geralt remained quiet. Even after she soaked a piece of cloth in one of her tinctures and started to wipe at the wounds. It was usually the moment when her companions started to writhe and curse.

Then again, they rarely hunted something that could easily tear them to pieces.

She shook her head. Instead of wondering, she should have focused on what she had to do.

‘Your name is Neve, right?’ the witcher asked after a moment, effectively disrupting her thoughts. ‘When were you an apprentice at the temple? I used to visit quite often, but I don’t remember you.’

‘I doubt that you were already making a living from your trade at that time’ she replied pulling another bottle from the chest.

‘Maybe that will surprise you, but I am slightly older than I look’ his voice carried an echo of a smile.

‘Truly?’ she smiled as well. ‘We are so much alike then. And to answer your question; it was back in times when the priestesses took in all smart girls willing to work and learn, without paying attention to where they came from…’

‘And you didn’t want to remain at the temple?’

‘I would make a poor priestess, believe me. To spend the rest of my days faking such a devotion behind the four walls of the cloister? I wouldn’t last a year. So I learned what I could and left. Most people I meet are more than pleased with my skillset.’

‘But you never returned to your commando.’

She was still touching him, she had no doubts that he felt when she suddenly stilled.

‘There was nothing to return to’ she replied, forcing herself to sound indifferent. She turned again, pulled the sewing kit from her supplies. ‘Do you want something for the pain?’

‘I doubt that your potions would work…’

‘A spoonful of my tincture put Borgh out of commission for almost two days. It should at least make the next hour more bearable…’

‘Tempting, but I still have to decline.’

‘As you wish. Just try not to wiggle too much.’

She started with he cut closest to the witcher’s neck.

‘So what someone like you does in the company of someone like Mohar Posch?’

‘What a curious witcher you are…’ she grinned, putting in another stitch.

‘Well you are the one prickling me with the needle’ replied Geralt. ‘You could at least offer me a conversation to kill some time.’

‘You’re right, I could’ she pressed the edges of the wound together, then tied a knot. ‘To put it simply, I am surviving. Isn’t it what matters the most in the end? Survive to see a better day? People like me rarely find places where they don’t have to do it alone…’

‘Which one of your parents was a human?’

‘Damn you, witcher’ Neve grimaced, momentarily regretting that she couldn’t see his face right now. ‘There are things that I am surely not going to talk about with you now. Let’s return to my company then. I agree with you that Mohar is a rare son of a bitch. But mostly to those he got paid for. By becoming a member of his company I gained the allies that at least respect my skills and mostly don’t care where I came from. And quite a lot of freedom, if you know what I mean. And now, my turn? What brings you to this provincial shithole in the ass-end of Ellander? A simple contract or something else?

‘You know a work for a witcher doesn’t really lie by the main roads or in the squares of busy cities…’

‘No doubts about it’ Neve pushed the needle through his skin again tightening the silk thread. ‘But I see that you would prefer to keep this conversation strictly one-sided.’

‘I am merely curious about you and your story Neve. Besides I has been a while since I had a chance to talk with someone who doesn’t need at least a table between us.’

‘Blame it on the unspoken solidarity between mongrels, mutants and other misfits’ the girl muttered with quite a bit of venom in her voice. ‘Because so it happens that I don’t give a shit about what you are.’

Geralt did not respond to that. The small room fell into silence. Neve continued to work, finishing the stitches on the first cut and moving onto the next one.

‘I am looking for a woman.’

She barked out a laugh.

‘I don’t think I will be able to help you with that.’

‘I figured that much. It would have surely angered your elven companion and I don’t really want to have to look over my shoulder when leaving, fearing that I will end in a ditch, with an arrow between my shoulder-blades.’

‘I can assure you that Alven would at least have the decency to look you in the eye. Back to the topic at hand though; the woman you seek? Care to tell me anything specific? Since Mohar became the commander of the count’s man there is not much in the area that could escape our notice.’

‘From what I heard, your commander is not particularly interested in working like this.’

‘Depends on how much the job pays. And his lordship is more than generous with us. Also, tough you likely know that better than me, winter is not the best time to seek other ways to earn a living… You never tried to hire yourself as a bodyguard of some noble?’

‘It is against the rules of my order. Besides the looks will clearly put me at a disadvantage.’

‘Quite the contrary, in my opinion. Anyway, that woman of yours…?’

‘A sorceress. Black-haired. She wears mostly black as well…’

‘Small of stature and…hmm… spiteful?’

He turned so fast that she almost cut through his skin with the thread.

‘Did you see her?

‘We did. And you were supposed to sit still’ she pushed at his uninjured shoulder until he was once again sitting with his back to her. ‘We heard a great deal as well. Now, listen to an honest advice, Geralt. Don’t ask after her at the castle. And, for your own good, don’t even mention that you know her.’

‘It was this bad then?’

‘You don’t sound surprised.’

‘It’s because I’m not. Do you know what she wanted? Or where she went?’

‘Whatever it was, she did not get it. Even after she claimed that she works on the orders of none other than the emperor Emhyr van Emreis himself. After the resulting argument, the lighting struck the only tower at the castle. The roof and the highest floor collapsed. Your sorceress then went in the direction of Vyzima. I don’t know where exactly, but as I said, asking will only get you in trouble.’

‘You don’t understand. I need to find her…’

‘I do understand, trust me’ after a brief moment of hesitation, she put her hand on his shoulder. ‘But instead of asking the count, take the money for the monster and leave. Take the road to Vyzima. Ask in the inns and villages you pass. People like rumors. And someone like her was bound to leave an impression.’

‘Thank you, Neve’

‘Don’t thank me yet, witcher’ she shook her head and bent over the wound again. ‘But, maybe think about me and the pleasant conversation we had once you will be far away from here. And now, let me work. We do not have a whole day.’


	3. Chapter 3

  
**III**

The burnt tower of the castle stood stark against the pale blue sky.

The city of Cemaes perched at the foot of the hill, where the castle was build, was a small town, but wealthy even at a first glance. Count Visse and his family drew their income not only from selling furs and the prospering lumber mills strewn across the dense forests of the area, but mostly from the silver mine lying in the nearby mountains. And it seemed that the sudden shift in power did not harm the family nor its business. It was true that by the new nilfgardiaan order, count Visse was a steward now, but as long as the taxes were paid on time and the area was relatively peaceful, no one was going to pay any mind to titles.

Not many of the temerian nobles could flaunt a similar success.

Neve observed the witcher as they climbed up the wide, cobblestone road leading to the castle. If she had anything to say in the matter, they would have spent the night in the village, but Mohar ordered them to leave as soon as they were done with a quick meal. She had no doubts that he had done it on purpose.

Geralt however did not complain. He sat straight and remained as quiet as he was for nearly the entire ride back. Neither of them mentioned that she had to help him put on and lace the clean doublet. It would be unwise. And dangerous.

The guard at the gate tower announced their approach with a shout. The wooden lattice creaked and lifted. It was a new addition to the castle, built in after Mohar took command of the place. The building changed a lot since they came here in the late autumn of last year. For one, it started to look like a fortified structure it was only pretending to be before.

A narrow gate led them into a courtyard. The chains groaned and the lattice was put back in place, hitting the ground with an ominous thud.

Neve flinched, feeling a shiver running down her spine. In any other situation she would be already looking for the possible ways to escape.

The sight of a group of the armed guards approaching them, definitely did not help to put her mind at ease. She looked at Alven, but the elf only shook his head, putting his finger to his lips.

The sable hands came to hold their horses. She watched as the guards formed a half circle in from of them. The shuffling of feet told her that they were also behind them, doing the same. She dismounted swiftly, a force of habit putting her hand onto the hilt of her sword.

Geralt slid off the saddle next to her, offering her a curious glance. She only managed to shrug, before the guards in front of them stepped to the sides, revealing count Olbert Visse, striding towards them in the company of Oddo Herst, one of Mohar’s most trusted men.

Neve was next to Alven in two, long strides, grabbing him by the shoulder.

‘Fucking a tavern wench in the barn?’ she hissed. ‘And I bloody believed you?!’

‘Quit screaming or we will both get in trouble’ the elf leaned forward, gently touching her hand. ‘Why are you so worked up over it anyway? We’ve done this numerous times…’

Neve took a step away, crossing her arms over her chest.

‘Maybe, but I used to always know what are you up to!’

‘Then the boss will give you something extra for the damaged morale. And now, be quiet!’ Alven grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, as if fearing that she was about to turn and address the issue with their commander.

Neve wasn’t going to do that. She cursed quietly in the elder speech and then obediently fell silent. She knew what she was about to witness and she didn’t like it. But arguing with Mohar could only end badly for her. And she was too much of a coward to risk an open confrontation.

‘Welcome, witcher’ count Olbert began. ‘I just heard how well you have dealt with the beast from Bresnica.’

She didn’t look up at Geralt when he passed her. The other mercenaries went after him, cutting off his escape route. Alven at least pulled them to the side, as far away from the witcher as possible.

‘You have to forgive me the manner of out last meeting’ the count continued, smiling in the way that nobody in their right might could have deemed honest. ‘As you likely realize, I am a very busy man. It was only after your departure when it was brought to my attention that my castle was visited by no other than the famous White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia’

The witcher offered a shallow bow, his eyes never leaving the count or his men. Neve looked at him in disbelief. He couldn’t honestly hope to fight his way out of here. He was watched by thirty guards and twelve mercenaries with plenty of experience in fighting against such an opponent.

Ten, she corrected herself quickly. She wasn’t going to fight him. She really hoped that Alven shared her sentiment.

That and Geralt himself was currently far from his typical witcher dexterity.

‘I am but a simple witcher, your lordship’ he said slowly. ‘A witcher who does the job, takes the promised pay and leaves, searching for the next contract…’

‘Maybe’ the count nodded. ‘It doesn’t matter who do you think you are. I am more interested in the people you know… Because it happens that we have acquaintances in common, witcher.’

Geralt flinched. Oddo, standing next to the count smiled in that nasty way of his. Few other mercenaries were also obviously amused. She instantly recognized Borgh’s infuriating cackle.

‘No answer?’ asked Olbert. ‘I am not surprised. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to put a noose around my own neck as well. But allow me to remind you. From what I know you were often seen in the company of sorceresses. One was bound to leave an impression… Yennefer of Vengerberg.’

Even from this distance, she could see the muscles working along the witcher’s clenched jaw.

‘It is an old affair, your lordship’ he replied. ‘We haven’t seen each other in years…’

If he always lied like that, she was not surprised that he had to learn to fight so well.

‘A pity’ the count’s face scrunched in a derisive grimace. ‘You see Geralt, my relationship with your witch is still quite fresh as you could clearly see’ he gestured at the burned tower, looming behind his back.

‘If Yennefer has insulted you in any way, your lordship, I am ready to repay you…’

This time even the guards couldn’t stop themselves. Their laugh echoed off of the walls and the buildings perched around the courtyard.

‘Repay me?’ Olbert’s voice dropped dangerously low. ‘How do you want to repay me, you vagabond? Do you think that the one hundred and fifty crowns I promised you for a monster will be enough to rebuild the tower?’

‘Then allow me to leave, your lordship’ continued Geralt calmly. ‘I have not offended you in any way…’

‘You are right. And this is the only reason why we are even talking. Otherwise I would have you thrown straight into the dungeon.’

There was a hiss of a sword being drawn. In the same moment the guards lifted the crossbows, ready to shoot.

Alven’s hand closed around her shoulder tightly, though she wouldn’t be able to move anyway.

‘I heard that you can deflect a flying bolt… how about thirty?’ Olbert’s smile widened. ‘Put down your sword witcher or your witch will get only whatever will remain of you.’

Geralt remained motionless. Tensed. Cautious. The crossbows remained trained on him. The hands of a few mercenaries reached for their weapons. Finally, after a long, nervous moment he put his sword back into the sheath and pulled it off his back.

‘A wise move’ muttered Mohar, nodding at Oddo.

The mercenary approached, tore the weapon from his grasp. Before Geralt could say anything, Borgh and two others came at him from behind. Neve was always impressed by his ability to move so quietly and swiftly despite his size. Now she only wanted to spit into his face, as he whacked the witcher across the back with the handle of his axe. Geralt fell to his knees. He tried to immediately stand up, but Borgh grabbed him by the hair and pulled, effectively immobilizing him. The two others jumped forward then, hitting and kicking the witcher, much to the amusement of the rest of the courtyard.

Neve didn’t want to look, but she knew that everyone would notice if she turns her eyes away. Alven let her go, his hand moving to rest against the small of her back. He was watching the scene with barely concealed disgust.

The guards were still laughing, throwing insults at the witcher.

At the count’s sign, the mercenaries stopped, pulled the witcher from the round, dragging him towards the entrance to the cellars.

‘A job well done’ Olbert smiled at Mohar standing next to him. ‘Now we have to send a messenger to Vyzima to this bloody witch… Neve?’ he looked at her, beckoning her to come closer.

She felt Alven’s hand giving her a gentle push.

‘Yes, your lordship?’ she asked with a bow.

She felt fingers, grabbing her by the chin. She looked the count in the eyes. The man offered her a broad smile than reached to his belt, took off a bulgy pouch and handed it to her. She was surprised by its weight. A moment later Mohar clapped her on the back.

If this was any other day, she would have been proud of herself.

‘You did well today’ her commander said. ‘You are quite apt at getting people to talk…’

‘An asset we should be using more often’ the count interrupted. ‘Maybe you would like to remain here after Mohar finally grows bored of me? I am sure I will be able to find you something to do.’

She forced out a smile, ignoring the chill she felt while looking at the way he smiled.

‘Thank you, your lordship.’

‘It was the moments like this, when she found herself wondering how she was still able to look into her own reflection and feel something else than disgust.

‘Would you like to have a supper with me, my wife and Mohar tonight?’

‘I will be honored. Thank you, your lordship.’


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

The dungeons were dark and dank. Neve could hear the rats, sneaking along the walls and hiding in the darkest corners. The single torch, hanging by the entrance constantly sputtered and sizzled, plunging the cellars in an almost complete darkness. Luckily for her, she didn’t need much light.

The dungeons were another new addition to the castle, created when Mohar ordered to put bars in place of a solid wooden doors to a few rooms. And they were mostly empty since then. Whatever criminals they had managed to find ended in the town dungeon or on the first solid branch they found, depending on the mood of their commander.

Three days. She didn’t expect that arranging everything will take her so much time. On the other hand, the task proved to be way more difficult than she anticipated, especially since she felt Mohar’s eyes on her whenever she went. Three days ago was also when she had last seen Geralt. She hoped that her companions hadn’t visited him often in the meantime.

If he won’t be able to stay upright in the saddle, she will be executed for a failure. And it wasn’t how she always imagined herself to go.

Neve carefully sneaked down the stairs. She felt a rat running over her shoe, absolutely oblivious to her presence. The sword belt pinched the skin between her breasts and the weapon itself dangled loosely off her back, bouncing against her hip.

She still heard only rats.

‘Geralt?’ she whispered, tiptoeing along the row of the cells. It was too dark to see any further than a few feet into each room. ‘If you are here witcher, speak up…’

‘Neve?’ something moved in the cell she was currently passing. Moments later she saw his yellow eyes, blinking at her from the shadows.

She took a step back involuntary. It was one of those things she would be happy to never see again.

‘What are you doing here?’ Geralt approached the bars. She grimaced at the sight of a swollen cut on his cheek and reached to her belt for a ring full of heavy, iron keys.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she muttered, searching for the right one. ‘I am risking myself for the cause…’

The witcher grabbed her wrist.

‘You are going to get in trouble… Go back to your rooms…’

‘You know, it’s touching to see that you actually care about my safety’ her lips bent in the parody of a smile. She pulled her arm free. The lock clicked quietly. ‘But we are short on time’ she pulled the witcher’s sword off her back and handed it to him, avoiding his eyes.

‘Why are you doing this?’

She cursed quietly in the elder speech, then glanced up at him.

‘Because your sorceress may not be in Vyzima now. There is no way to tell when she will get the count’s letter. Or if she gets it at all. Do you really think that he can’t afford to build himself a new tower? He is furious and he is nursing his hurt pride right now. But he won’t be angry forever. And then he will start to grow tired of your presence at the castle. Shortly after that Mohar’s men will take an interest in you…’ she shuddered.

‘I can take care of myself…’

‘In a fair fight’ Neve shrugged. ‘You would likely managed to kill all of us without breaking a sweat. But, you are injured. And none of my companions would want to face you directly in the field. I know these men. They will torment you slowly, like a caged bear. And they will enjoy every second of it. So you can either try to run away with me now or wait until they throw your remains at the compost heap.’

‘If they catch us…’

She felt a smile creeping upon her lips. She knew exactly what will happen, if they will fail to escape. She often wondered about what Mohar will do to her in the long hours she took to prepare everything.

At least she was fairly certain that he won’t be able to surprise her with anything.

‘Then I won’t be slaughtered like a hunted animal and you will get the chance to die like a witcher.’

Geralt watched her. Long enough that it was starting to get mildly uncomfortable. For a moment she wondered what he was thinking about. Then again, it didn’t matter in the end. He probably just didn’t trust her. She wasn’t surprised. She wouldn’t have trusted herself after what had happened a few days ago. Finally he took the sword from her, putting it on his back.

‘Let us go then.’

Neve went first, running up the stairs without a single unnecessary sound. In the small vestibule, the majority of space was taken up by the table, pushed against one of the walls. Two guards sat behind it – one sprawled across the table top, the other bowed, with his chin pressed to his chest. Between them sat the empty cask of wine and two leather mugs.

‘Did you poison them?’ she knew that Geralt was right behind her, but she still flinched when she heard his voice right next to her ear.

‘Do you remember the potion I mentioned at the baths? It has a lot of surprising applications. They will be fine though, they will sleep till tomorrow and, except for an angry count, they will have nothing to worry about…’ she slid towards the door, carefully glancing outside. Except for a single torch, hanging near the gate, the courtyard was illuminated only by the light of the stars. The gate itself was opened and the lattice lifted.

Even better for them. It mean that they were not discovered yet.

‘Horses are ready in the stables’ she whispered. ‘Follow me. The faster we’ll get out of here the better.’

Geralt did not reply. She could barely hear his steps at they sneaked across the yard.

They reached the building by the gate with no issue. Horses stood where she left them, bound to one of the stalls. She wasn’t surprised when Geralt spotted the body. She could try to hide it better. Now the hay around it was already dyed red with blood.

‘He didn’t want to drink with me’ she muttered, sensing his glance on her. ‘Some people don’t find half-elves to be attractive enough.’

‘Neve…’

‘Hush. Let’s postpone what will be an undoubtedly interesting conversation for a later time. Mohar can realize any minute now that I am up to no good. And when he does, I would like to be as far away from here as possible…’

She glanced into the courtyard again before pushing the stable door wide open and pulling her horse after her.

Hearing nothing but silence in the courtyard almost made her breathe a sigh of relief. Up until now she didn’t believe that they would be able to do this and now they were just a few steps away from the exit.

The moment was ruined by the sudden sound of many approaching feet. Before she could even curse again, Mohar appeared in the courtyard, followed closely by his men. She instantly noticed that some were missing; including Alven.

‘Your lover tried to buy you some time’ Mohar offered her a nasty smile, knowing what she was thinking about. ‘Though it was obviously not enough…’

Neve stared at her commander in disbelief. It wasn’t what she expected after what their conversation looked like, when she went to say goodbye.

‘I have to admit that you surprised me’ the mercenary continued. ‘Not everyone would be able to pull something like that right under my nose and you almost succeed. And I always knew how to appreciate a talent. That’s why the witcher will return to his cell and you will leave. With your skin intact.’

Geralt took a step in their direction, but she threw out her arm, stopping him. She knew that he won’t let either of them go.

‘You were always a sensible woman, Neve. I am sure that we can come to an agreement…’

She remained motionless, tightening her grip on the reins. She didn’t believe in a single word he was saying. Geralt reached for his sword.

At the same moment Alven burst through one of the side doors. He looked terrible with the oozing wound on his face and the cut across his chest. But when he charged the mercenaries he moved with the same fluid, murderous grace. He looked at her only once.

‘Run Neve!’

A guard stumbled out of the barracks, running towards the gate tower as fast as his legs could carry him. Neve acted on instincts, pulled on of her knives from the belt, aimed. The man tripped, then collapsed. She didn’t see Borgh rising the crossbow to his shoulder.

Geralt noticed. He lounged for her, gripping her by the shoulder and pulling her to him. She noticed how his other hand moved, his fingers forming a sign.

The bolt bounced off of the sphere surrounding them, flying to the side.

‘Get on!’ he growled. The spell blinked and dissipated. They ran for the horses.

Neve jumped onto the saddle. Geralt made another sign. Her ears popped. A sudden gust of wind pulled at her hair. The bolts flying in their direction fell onto the cobblestones with a clatter.

Alven screamed, then choked.

When Neve looked around, he was hanging limply from the tip of Mohar’s sword. They were surrounded by five other bodies. Her commander looked her in the eyes, his face scrunched up in a cruel grimace.

Someone was screaming. A high-pitched, frightful sound. It took her a moment to recognize her own voice.

Her horse nickered in panic, then bolted for the gate. She had no choice but to look ahead, pressing her face into her mare’s neck. Another bolt passed her by the inches, almost mussing her hair.

There was a bang. Her heard a clatter of a breaking chain. The lattice fell down, ramming into the ground, cutting them off from their pursuit.

In the dell before them, Cemaes blinked with a few stray lights, completely unaware of the events that just transpired at the castle.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

They only stopped when Geralt’s mare started whining and tripping over her own legs. Her own horse wasn’t as fresh as she was just an hour ago, but it would still be able to run for a couple more miles.

It didn’t change much. Neve knew that they won’t be able to outrun the pursuit if they will end up with only one horse.

They were surrounded by a dense forest. An hour before the dawn, she could hardly see a thing in the darkness beneath the trees. Except for a distant hooting of an owl, nothing disturbed the silence.

She wasn’t expecting the pursuit to depart earlier than in the couple of hours. Mohar had too many things to handle at the castle right now.

‘There is a stream nearby’ the witcher’s white hair was the only thing she could see when she glanced at him. ‘We can stay there a while, rest our horses… We will depart at sunrise. I know these forests, we should be able to throw them off our trail…’

Geralt nodded, turning his horse in the direction she was pointing.

‘Lead the way then.’

Neve turned in her saddle, carefully leading her horse off the road and into the forest. Right now the best she could do was to try and find her way between the trunks, looking out for the roots hidden under the layer of a dry leaves. She would find a better road in the morning. By using the forest paths they could reach Vyzima or travel even further, cross the Pontar River and push the pursuit off their trail completely. If she plays her cards right Mohar will not find her.

At least until she will be ready to allow him to.

A dull thud pulled her thoughts back to the present and almost threw her off the saddle, when her mare jumped, letting out a panicked neigh.

She turned around and cursed, jumping onto the ground.

‘Geralt!’

The witcher tried to pull himself up. He failed, falling against the dry leaves with a groan. Neve ran over to him, made a move to grab his shoulder. His jacket was sticky with blood. She kneeled next to him, quickly unlacing the doublet and stuck her hand beneath the fabric. The bandages wrapped around his shoulder were soaked with blood.

‘You tore out the stitches…’ she muttered, trying to get a better look at the injury. She unlaced the jacket further, pulling the sleeve off his shoulder. He flinched when she tried to loosen up the dressing on the wound. ‘We need to stop the bleeding. Why didn’t you tell me?’

She was pushing herself up, when Geralt reached and grabbed her hand.

‘The pursuit…’

‘Fuck the pursuit!’ she cut him off. ‘You will bleed out if I don’t do something…’ she tried to pull herself free, but this time his grip was impossible to shake.

‘I have potions in the saddlebags… Flasks from blue and white glass… Take one of each. They should help.’

‘Should?!’ she hissed when he released her. The witcher did not respond. He laid on the forest floor, his eyes falling away from her, unfocused. She could hear his shallow breathing. Neve cursed again, if only to hear something else, approached the bay mare and easily located the small wooden box. Inside, in the compartments cushioned with a dry grass were small glass bottles. She pulled out two, put the chest away and ran back to the witcher.

She held his head when he drank.

‘Thank you, Neve…’

‘Hush now witcher. You are still bleeding…’ she couldn’t see much in the darkness, but the sweet scent of blood was almost choking her.

‘It should stop soon… Help me up, we need to go…’

‘Are you nuts?’ she asked, placing her arm under his healthy shoulder. They stood up slowly. ‘This needs to be redressed…’

‘We are still too close to the castle. If Mohar will find you, he will kill you…’

‘Fuck Mohar and all his men!’ she sneered. ‘I didn’t pull you out of there only so you could die in a ditch. What will your sorceress say?’

‘She figured out a long time ago that one of the contracts will likely put our relationship to an end. And you are in enough of troubles because of me already…’

‘That’s a load of gibberish if I ever heard one’ she interrupted him. ‘Will you be able to get on the horse?’

Geralt did not respond, wavering on his feet. She put her arm around his waist, pulling him towards her horse. The witcher stumbled, almost throwing them on the ground, then hung limply off her shoulder. She could feel his blood soaking through her sleeve.

This couldn’t be ending in this way. She wasn’t going to allow that. After a few tries she pushed the witcher onto her horse, slipped onto the saddle behind him, grabbed the bay mare by the reins and urged both horses to run.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

Neve wiped the saddle with a rag again, though she wasn’t really expecting any effects. It was pretty obvious that the leather will stain. Pity, she liked that saddle. But it was turning out to be just one more things she will have to deal without for quite some time.

On the other side of the fire, Geralt moved under the heap of blankets covering him and blinked, instinctively squinting against the light. Neve put her work away, grabbed the water skin and walked over to him. She stopped him when he tried to get up.

‘Stay down, witcher. You lost so much blood that I was beginning to wonder if you were even going to wake up…’

‘Where are we?’

‘In the forest’ she grinned. ‘Far enough away to be safe for now. Mohar will have to put in some work if he wants to find us without a good tracker. And he is currently short on those.’

Geralt ignored her frown and sat up with a wince. She watched him looking over the small, tidy campsite.

‘You did this?’

‘I was born and raised in a scoia’tael commando. And you don’t just forget some things they teach you. For example how not to die from cold and hunger while alone in the wilderness’ she handed him the water skin. ‘Drink.’

‘What’s this?’

‘Just water. We don’t have anything stronger right now. Which is something I also personally regret. That said, I would have gotten you drunk on a thimble of spirits right now and I don’t think it would be a particularly great idea’ she smiled and stood up, picking a few, dried leaves off her trousers. ‘I’ll see to your wound and then I will try to find us some dinner’ she walked around the fire to pick up her chest with medicines.

‘And we are here for how long?’

‘A little over two days’ she replied, kneeling next to him again. She reached for the dressing, quickly and skillfully unwinding the layers of cloth bound around his arm and shoulder. ‘I do hope that the stitches will stay in this time. Those wounds need time to heal.’

Geralt lifted his hand, running his fingers over the rows of tight stitches she had to put in again. After a moment of silence he raised his eyes to his companion.

‘Neve’ he began carefully. ‘What happened in the castle… I am sorry.’

‘Don’t’ she shook her head, wiping the wounds with a rag soaked in some tincture. He could only recognize the smell of comfrey. Geralt reached, grabbed her hand. He wasn’t about to wait with this a moment longer, even if he understood why she didn’t want to listen to him.

‘You risked so much to help me, even though we barely know each other. Not many people would have decided to do something like this. For a witcher no less. If I had known how the things were going to end… I am truly sorry Neve…’ he trailed off, giving her hand a firm squeeze.

She glanced at him, blinking quickly. The tear escaped her anyway. The girl reached, furiously wiping it off, her lips pressed into a frim line.

‘It doesn’t matter now’ she wiped her other cheek and grimaced. ‘Damn you witcher…’

For a moment, he seemed to be unsure of what to say. Then he reached, putting his hand on her shoulder.

‘It does to me’ he said quietly. ‘Maybe if I had stayed in the cell…’

‘You would have died’ she interrupted him. ‘Tomorrow. Next week. Or in a month… I know Mohar and I knew the sort of men that worked with him. And since you ended there because of me…’

‘This is not true…’

‘Oh, it is…’ Neve pulled a piece of cloth from the chest, putting a thick layer of a green paste over it. It smelled strongly of wild sage. She placed the cloth over the injury. ‘I heard someone sneaking around the baths, but I failed to recognize Oddo. If I did, I wouldn’t have allowed you to even step a foot within the castle.’

‘And went against your commander’s orders?’

She stayed quiet for a while, winding a fresh bandage around the wound.

‘It’s the matter of principle, if I still have any’ she shrugged. ‘Something Mohar wasn’t able to fully control. I’ve see him dragging one of the elves we caught behind his horse until he almost completely skinned him. Or how he raped and then tormented to death a druidess from a circle we helped to slaughter. And many other horrid things I would be happy to never talk about… I don’t know, maybe I finally had enough. Or maybe I wanted to feel like I am any better than them.’

‘You are better than them.’

Neve didn’t even try to make her smile convincing.

‘You don’t know that…’

‘No I am sure of that’ the witcher interrupted her. ‘Just as I am sure that I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for you… I am not the best in saying these kind of things, but… Thank you, Neve… You have my gratitude. And my debt. So if you would ever need anything…’

‘From what I heard, witchers aren’t particularly fond of making such declarations. It interferes with destiny or something…’

‘Still, my word stands. Regardless of destiny.’

Neve looked at him and smiled, before she turned to put her supplies back to the chest.

‘Thank you. If you think that I am worthy of such trust… I will do my best not to tarnish that’ she stood up, taking the chest with her.

‘You didn’t strike me as someone who would think so little about themselves…’

‘Believe me this is still leagues better than what it used to be.’

‘And I can assume that you are not going to elaborate?’

‘Precisely’ she replied, picking up a bow and a quiver that were resting against one of the trees. ‘Because there is nothing to talk about. My story is exactly the same as those of other half-bloods. The only difference is that I stopped mourning that fact quite some time ago’ she threw the quiver over her shoulder. ‘It’s not easy to survive, if you are constantly reminding yourself of the reasons why you shouldn’t’ she turned to glance at him.

It appeared that Geralt didn’t have a response ready for that.

‘What are you going to do know?’ he asked when the silence between them started to grow heavy.

‘Hunt us some dinner, just as I said’ she grinned, when she noticed the way he was looking at her.

‘What are you planning to do now, that you are no longer in Mohar’s service? And you know that your former commander will likely not leave you be?’ he asked again, when it became clear that she was not going to answer.

‘First, I would like to make sure that someone with an actual experience will remove those stitches. Then we will see… I might have to lay low for a while, hide somewhere. Make sure Mohar grows tired of searching for me. Maybe I will travel for a bit? I could use a change. And I heard that Toussaint is a really beautiful place. They even tolerate nonhumans better than in most places… It’s not the first time when I have to disappear. I’ll be fine… What?’ she asked when she noticed the way he was looking at her. ‘Did you think that I am going to leave you here and go my own way? I can do just that, if you wish…’

‘This is not what I was…’ he sighed. ‘Do you always expect the worst of people?’

‘I learned the hard way not to expect anything else. To your credit though, you do seem like a decent sort.’

‘Would you like to accompany me then? I still need to find Yennefer, but you would be safer with me, at least for a time. And we can split up whenever you want to.’

‘I would have to be a fool to throw away the support of a witcher’s sword, but I don’t think I would be a good fit for the imperial court…’

‘No one will spare you a second glance because the will all be busy sneering at me’ Geralt shrugged, then winced. ‘Besides Yennefer might not even be there…’

‘We’ll see about that. Now, quit aggravating your wound and allow me to find us something to eat’ she turned on her heel and disappeared into the forest as quietly as only her elven brethren could.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

The village sat snuggled into a small dell between a few, low hills. The road ran straight for it, down the slope they currently stood upon. They could see the fires getting lighten up in the quickly falling dusk and people, milling about to finish what they had to do before heading in for the night.

Even from this far away they could hear the music and ruckus coming from the inn, perched at the edge of the town.

The wind changed, blowing in their faces, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread and some roasting meat.

Neve heard Geralt sigh and turned away, hiding her own grin. Travelling through the forests and eating only the spoils of her own hunt didn’t bother her much, but while she was a member of Mohar’s company she got used to some certain comforts. Like a roof over her head every night and hot water for bathing.

She would gladly made use of both of these things now. And she craved a decent meal. And a bed. Even better if it would turn out to be free of bugs. She had no doubt that her companion shared her thoughts right now.

Geralt turned in the saddle, looking at her.

‘Since this is the first time when we came out of the woods towards civilization I don’t suppose that you have any hidden money on your person?

He looked startled when she failed to stifle a laugh. Even more so, when she reached for her saddlebags, procuring a hefty leather pouch. He did catch it, when she threw it at him though. Neve watched as he weighted the contents in his palm.

‘What’s this?’ he asked after a moment his eyes moving between her face and the moneybag.

‘Three hundred crowns for the Bresnica monster.’

‘It was supposed to be one hundred and fifty…’

‘I know, but count Visse gave me three hundred as a reward for the help in bringing you to him. So I figured you are entitled to this money more than I am. And I do hope that it will keep you from seeking another contract until your wounds are healed.’

‘Neve that’s too much…’

‘No you just need to demand a proper payment for what you are doing.’

‘And what about you?’

Her grin only grew wider.

‘Do you really think that I left Mohar’s service without some compensation for the five years I spent tolerating him?’

Geralt blinked. She actually giggled.

‘You stole from him? On top of everything?’

‘Technically, I stole from the count. But if this bastard has enough money to throw them at Mohar for six months now, he is not going to miss what I took. I have no idea when I will be able to search for some actual work. And I don’t really look forward to starving in the meantime.’

Geralt shook his head, but she could see the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile.

‘Always pragmatic, I see.’

‘You have no idea.’

‘So what do you think I should do with this sudden influx of cash?’

‘You can start with buying me some dinner if that much wealth disturbs you’ Neve nudged her horse with her heels and trotted down the slope. ‘Unless of course you would prefer to sleep outside again today’ she called over her shoulder. ‘It seems like it is going to rain!’

Geralt remained on the hill for a moment, watching his companion. Then he clicked his tongue and forced Roach to canter, quickly catching up with her.


End file.
